


Rewind Does Someone He Shouldn't

by ultharkitty



Category: Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: M/M, Other, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-17
Updated: 2012-07-17
Packaged: 2017-11-10 04:46:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/462341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ultharkitty/pseuds/ultharkitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Continuity: IDW MTMTE, set before issue 6.</p><p>A response to this prompt on the kinkmeme: http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/10462.html?view=11082718#t11082718</p><p>Contains: heat cycle plot device, sticky, bestiality (non-sentient Insecticon initiating sex with sentient TF), consent issues, humiliation, knotting, size difference, and a bit of h/c.</p><p>For this, I'm having Rewind and Chromedome share a room (can't remember if that's canon or not, but if they're not roomies then they should be <3). ETA: THEY TOTALLY DO!!!!! Also, hab-suite is so very 2000AD. *approves*</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rewind Does Someone He Shouldn't

Rewind didn't know which was more embarrassing: entering his heat cycle with no warning halfway through recording a conversation between Sunstreaker and Trailbreaker; having Sunstreaker's odd hulking pet attempt to hump his leg while his interface routines were going crazy and he had to press his thighs together to keep his valve cover closed; the thought of confessing it to Chromedome when the other was so kind and dependable and someone Rewind did not want to take advantage of; having to cancel all his appointments and lock himself away for an extended menage a trois with his right hand and his prosthetic friend; having Rung turn up after four days to politely enquire about the reason for his sudden seclusion, and to encourage him to talk his problems through; or having caught all of it on camera because, well, he wasn't about to turn that off.

But no, they weren't as bad as attempting to secure some extra lubricant for his mechanical spike (ribbed, nubbed and equipped with fifteen different width, vibration and spin settings, for his pleasure), forgetting that he still had said spike in his hand, having to dive for cover when someone came walking down the corridor, knocking his hand against a ridge in the wall, and seeing the spike shoot across the floor, bounce against the opposite wall, and roll to a gentle stop at Cyclonus' feet.

Cyclonus had stood on it. Farewell, prosthetic friend. 

And even that wasn't as bad as dealing with the crawling constant need. It wasn't as bad as crouching cramped in his and Chromedome's private washracks all recharge cycle, listening to the sounds of the ship while he pumped his valve with his fingers, hoping desperately that this time would be different, that this overload would be the one to take the edge off. 

It never was. 

Exhausted beyond anything he'd previously experienced, and so highly charged his fingers sparked where they touched the floor, Rewind crawled out of the washracks, through the darkened room, past his sleeping room-mate and out into the harsh light of the corridor. 

He imagined Chromedome waking up and following him, knowing what he needed without anything having to be said. Coming up behind him. Large, tender, slow. Or Rodimus springing into the hallway, confident and obliging. Or Sunstreaker maybe, so very shiny. Or Ratchet, commanding, knowledgeable; hands around his waist, tilting his aft. He knew he should stand, but instead he thrust his legs apart, angling his hips. His covers reopened, the sound muffled by the leak of lubricant. 

A breeze activated the sensors at his rim. He cocked his aft higher. Surely someone was still awake, someone would come and see him and take advantage of his desperation. 

Someone...? He was so empty. His valve clenched; lubricant trickled down his thigh. 

He pressed his helm to the floor. _Anyone?_

A skittering sound rang out through the corridor. A scampering and a swooshing. Rewind tried to trip his databanks into action. He knew that noise, surely? But conscious thought occupied less than 4% of his processing power; the rest was taken up in a struggle against the heat.

The noises grew closer, then suddenly stopped. Something nudged his open valve. Warm metal, a huff of air. Rewind whined, hunching his shoulders down and bringing his thighs yet further apart. 

Somewhere deep down, he knew this was a bad idea. It wasn't Rodimus behind him, or Chromedome or Sunstreaker or anyone else his fevered imagination threw up. This wasn't good. 

Another huff of air, then an intake, vents rattling, and a low, rumbling growl. 

Whoever was behind him was sniffing him. 

Rewind stretched his arms above his head, a tiny shiver working its way through his lines. He glanced back, between his open knees. Purple, yellow, dull gunmetal grey, trailing a long leash with a broken metal link at the end. There were spikes on its armour, _don't think of spikes, think of anything but spikes_.

Rewind crushed his face to the floor, the sharp edge of his mask scratching the steel. Bob looked larger from this angle. Looming, bulkier. Rewind switched off his optics, but that too was a mistake as the input from all his other sensors rushed to take over the portion of his cybernetic brain previously concerned only with the visual. 

A pressure landed on the small of his back. A blunt, clawed foot. It pressed him down. 

He let it. His armour was too small, his circuits were burning. Each ex-vent scorched him, and his seams steamed.

He wriggled his aft, pushed back onto empty air. 

When Bob mounted him, he almost screamed. So close, and yet so far. No spike, not yet. Where was it? His valve needed filling, it didn't need... Waiting, oh frag no, not waiting. He couldn't wait! Not for the fear that someone would see them - Rewind was long past worrying about that - but for the fear that his valve would never be filled. He couldn't bear being empty. 

Bob's weight settled on his back, heavier than he could have imagined. But reassuring, warm, hot even. Blazing air teased his seams, and he moaned as Bob nuzzled the side of his helm, then gasped as the Insecticon's dexterous secondary arms grabbed the back of his neck. 

He was pinned, and scrap it felt good. All except for his valve, and _no_ , why delay now? Was it an Insecticon thing? Was that why Bob felt the need to rub the spine on the inside of his knee against Rewind's outer thigh. Rewind whimpered, trying to edge himself back, keeping his aft tilted up. 

Bob's growl intensified, and the rumble spread through them both. Then a new heat passed over his opening, followed quickly by the pressure of something thick and wide and rounded, and oh scrap it was vibrating. Not an echo of Bob's purr, but vibrating like Rewind's interface aid, the one Cyclonus had stood on. 

Bob's first thrust would have been painful had Rewind not been so very ready. It stretched him wide, the spike hot and thick and oh but it was ribbed too and covered all over with what felt like tiny rounded spines. 

Rewind came hard, his own spike discharging onto the ground. But he wasn't finished yet. His valve tightened, his frame winding up for another overload. 

He balled his fists against the floor. The metal was warm, heat conducted from his own frame, from the Insecticon on his back. He dared not move, but rocked with the force of the spike pounding into him. 

By the third overload, Bob's panting had become frantic, his grip on Rewind's neck so tight he was leaving marks. He thrust as deep as it was possible to go, not once but over and over bringing Rewind to the brink of yet another harsh climax. Then Bob howled, and Rewind whimpered, and the world went white for a long moment. 

When Rewind came to his senses, the edge had faded, and Bob was still inside him. He tried to creep forward, to pull himself off the spike. No-one had seen him, there was no-one around. Good. 

But the Insecticon gripped him tight, inside and out. 

Inside?

Rewind's valve gave a brief forceful shudder. It couldn't contract. Bob's spike had... grown? Expanded? It was larger inside him, filling him, still softly vibrating and making Rewind wish that he could move. Just a little. Enough to raise the charge again, and sure he knew it wasn't the best of ideas, but if he could get just one more overload...

"Bob! Oh frag no, not again!"

Rewind cringed as new footsteps rang out. He didn't want to look up. 

Or to look anywhere. A swoosh, and the door to his and Chromedome's quarters opened. "What's going..." Chromedome began. "Oh..."

Yellow armour flashed by Rewind's face. "Depressurise, Bob, now! How long's he been like this?"

"I don't know," Chromedome said. "I only just woke up."

There was a clang as Sunstreaker knelt down. "I'm sorry," he said. "I left him somewhere secure, he must have broken the chain. He gets all worked up about cassettes." 

Rewind didn't respond; he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him. This event was going to have consequences, he knew it, although he didn't exactly congratulate himself for recording it.

Then Sunstreaker did something to Bob, something Rewind couldn't see, and the spike retreated. Rewind slumped on the floor, aft up and dignity well and truly flattened. 

Chromedome knelt beside him as Sunstreaker towed Bob away. "Heat cycle?" he asked. 

Rewind made the only noise he could, a kind of staticky beep. Chromedome very gently turned him over and picked him up. 

"You could have told me," he said. "I could have helped you, um... I mean helped find you someone. Someone suitable. Do you need to go to Ratchet?"

Rewind shook his head so hard his mask rattled. Bob hadn't done him any harm, except maybe the back of his neck, but that was nothing he couldn't deal with by himself. 

Back in their room, Chromedome wrapped him in a thermo-regulation blanket and fixed him some additive-filled energon. He knelt by Rewind's berth, holding the cube for him because it was pretty obvious to them both he wasn't going to hold it by himself. 

"You didn't mention anything," Chromedome said. "About the heat."

Rewind bought time by taking a sip. How could Chromedome understand? How could any of them who weren't cassettes? He drank some more. The energon was oddly cooling, although his valve still tingled and the itch to interface was slowly building all over again. 

"Too intense," he croaked, somehow finding the words, although he wasn't about to tackle full sentences yet. "Would have asked you." He stared at his drink; he had nothing left to lose. "Wanted to."

Chromedome leaned back. Rewind risked looking up; even kneeling his friend towered over him. Although maybe he wouldn't be his friend for much longer, not after what he'd seen. Rewind's valve gave another twinge, and he squirmed. It was a struggle to keep his optics from straying any lower than Chromedome's waist. 

Then Chromedome sighed and rested his elbows on Rewind's berth. "So, why didn't you?" he asked. 

"Too embarrassed," Rewind said, and it would have been funny if it wasn't so tragic. "Didn't want to take advantage."

" _You_ didn't want to take advantage?" Chromedome echoed. Rewind almost laughed. 

Chromedome patted Rewind on the broad plane of his shoulder, causing his interface array to light up all over again. 

"It's still getting to you, isn't it?" he said. "Are you sure you don't need me to take you to Ratchet?"

"No!" Rewind squeaked, and thank goodness for the thermo-regulation blanket because his valve cover had again popped open and all he could think of was clinging to Chromedome's beautiful sleek chest, his thighs spread and his valve stuffed so full he could hardly move. "Frag me," he said. "Oh frag, please frag me? Please..."

"I..." Chromedome began. "You're in your heat cycle. I can't, you..."

 _Just fragged an Insecticon?_ Rewind thought; that was enough to put anyone off. But Chromedome continued. 

"You might regret it later," he said. "You were worried about taking advantage of me. Well I'm worried about taking advantage of you." He stood and checked the door lock, then took to his own bunk. "I'll keep in a light recharge so I'll hear if you need me. Try to get some rest, and we'll see how you feel in the morning."

* * *

They didn't make it as far as morning. It took a while, and it took all the limited focus Rewind still possessed, but after a long scrubdown in the washracks and an even longer conversation from opposite sides of the room, Rewind swapped berths. 

He squirmed in Chromedome's warm embrace, his valve bared and a new trickle of lubricant glossing the nodes. Chromedome was nervous, Rewind could tell even through the mental haze of his heat cycle. But he persisted, reminding his friend that his affections were genuine, that he'd thought about it more nights than not as he lay drowsy on his bunk preparing for recharge. That the only thing he'd have to regret from the day would be crawling into the corridor with his aft in the air. 

He should have crawled onto Chromedome's bunk. 

He sighed at the sound of his friend's spike cover releasing. Then Chromedome pulled him higher, curled around him on his side. He slipped a hand between Rewind's legs, raising his thigh. That hand could have easily wrapped around his entire body. Rewind shivered, and groped behind himself. 

Oh now that was a fine spike, and if he didn't get it inside him very soon there'd be... no, not consequences. There would be disappointment. 

Chromedome moaned, shivering as Rewind worked his hand around the tip. This was nice. Nice and big. Too big, perhaps, but he'd fit it inside him if it took all night. 

Rewind guided the tip to his opening. His valve ached, partly with anticipation and partly with the last lingering effects of his stretching from earlier. Mustn't think of that. Keep in the moment, he could analyse everything later. Now, he just needed to be fucked. 

Right now.

He lay his hand over Chromedome's fingers where they gently held his thigh, hoping, urging. 

With a soft rev of his engine, Chromedome pushed slowly inside. Rewind sighed; so filling already, so good. Then Chromedome thrust deep, and Rewind moaned with the thrill and the heat-enhanced pleasure. 

He looked down between his thighs, watching the spike slide into him. It more than made up for the embarrassment of the past five days. At least a few cycles of this orn would be worth re-visiting. 

He was glad that his camera was still on.


End file.
